Chapter XIX #2
I think I see a momentary waver in Kallisto’s armor. She eyes Apollonia, and I think there’s a chance the words might have gotten to her. Then she looks to me and her expression hardens.
“You should have thought about that before you chose to be friends with a filthy metic,” she says snidely. Without another word, she turns from us and heads quickly and purposefully toward the temple.
My mouth is dry as I stand among the other priestesses, waiting.
Each of their faces a mask of austerity. It’s late morning, and nearly everyone in the Acropolis is here, but three people are missing.
Kallisto. Apollonia. The high priestess.
By the time two priestesses came to the acolytes’ quarters for Apollonia, we’d managed to get dressed at least. They didn’t answer her questions about where she was being taken, only insisted that the high priestess had summoned her.
They held up their hands when I tried to go with her, emphasizing that the high priestess had asked for Apollonia and Apollonia alone. That was several hours ago.
I picked at my breakfast alongside Amersa and the other priestesses, all of them blissfully unaware of what had happened. We were called to the Acropolis’s central courtyard a short time after and instructed to wait.
After what feels like a century, a set of doors to our left opens and, finally, Apollonia is led out.
She has been crying; I can tell that much from her tear-streaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
My pulse quickens. The two senior priestesses walk at her flanks, while Eupraxia trails behind her.
The high priestess’s expression is inscrutable, which somehow makes me feel even worse.
I watch as the older woman crosses the courtyard to stand at the base of the stairs, so that she is slightly elevated.
She waits until all eyes are on her before she speaks.
“This morning, I received a report of serious misconduct regarding Acolyte Apollonia.” There is a heaviness in her voice.
“After speaking to her separately, I now believe that I have a full and truthful account, directly from Acolyte Apollonia, of what transpired. Before I share my verdict, I would ask Apollonia to address you all.”
Everyone in the courtyard looks to Apollonia, whose head is now bowed.
“Last night, my actions did not reflect the moral code befitting an acolyte or priestess of the Goddess.” Her voice is flat. “For that, I offer my sincere and humble apologies to the women of this temple.”
I frown. This doesn’t make sense. Apollonia told me that the soldiers went after her, hurt her. I don’t understand why she would be apologizing.
“Do you have anything else to add?” Eupraxia asks.
Apollonia shakes her head.
The priestesses begin to murmur among themselves, but Eupraxia raises a hand, and at once, everyone is silent again. She takes a deep breath.
“Then know that I did not come to my choice easily. Apollonia, you are hereby dismissed from service as an acolyte and banned from serving again in future.”
There are several sharp gasps, a collective sound of astonishment from the other priestesses. A great roaring fills my head, and I find it hard to make sense of anything as Apollonia’s mouth opens in horror.
“Banned?” she repeats softly. “But my…my family has served this temple for centuries.”
Eupraxia bows her head. “Which makes this all the sadder.”
“But…but you can’t.” Apollonia looks around the courtyard. No one will meet her eye now. “I’ll have nowhere to go. My father won’t take me back if I’ve been expelled from priestesshood. I’ll end up on the street!”
Eupraxia says nothing else.
“You can’t do this.” Apollonia seems to be past the point of reason. Her voice rises in pitch. “High Priestess, please, I beg you to reconsider!”
Two priestesses, the same ones who escorted Apollonia in, break away from the crowd.
There is a new steel in their eyes. Each of them takes Apollonia by the arm; at their touch, she becomes hysterical, trying to wriggle free from their grip.
They hold her firm and begin to lead her from the courtyard.
“Please!” Apollonia is screaming now, her words nearly unintelligible as she wails. “High Priestess, please! Sisters, please!”
The screams bring me to my senses. I step forward. “She didn’t do anything wrong!” I shout. “She was attacked by two soldiers!”
“Acolyte Medusa.” Eupraxia’s voice is suddenly sharp. “Be silent.”
“No!” I run to Apollonia, and she grabs my hands, holding on with a viselike grip. “This isn’t right!” My eyes search the room. “She’s done nothing wrong!”
Apollonia is still wailing, still holding on to me.
I feel two sets of hands grab me by my arms and pull until we’ve broken apart.
When I look up, I see that the priestesses who pulled me away have tears in their own eyes.
They hold me back while Apollonia is dragged from the courtyard, though her screams can be heard for several minutes as she’s escorted off the Acropolis’s grounds.
Eventually, the priestesses release me. I whirl around to face Eupraxia.
She hasn’t spoken again, but a new fatigue has settled on her face.
She looks as though she’s aged an entire decade.
“Our oath is a sacred one.” She stares at her folded hands as she speaks. “And our service to this temple is an honor and privilege, not a right. You would all do well to remember that.”
No one says a word as she turns and leaves the courtyard. After a few minutes, the priestesses of the temple follow, walking with their heads bowed and whispering low. Eventually, only Amersa and I are left.
“She was always really nice,” says Amersa. She looks to be on the verge of tears herself. “I don’t understand this.”
My heart constricts like it’s being crushed in an iron fist. My last sight of Apollonia is seared into my mind—the desperation in her voice, the fear in her eyes.
“She didn’t do anything wrong,” I say in a quieter voice. “I talked to her this morning. She was the one attacked by two soldiers. She didn’t—”
“Oh, please.”
I look up. I don’t know when Kallisto slipped into the courtyard. She’s standing where Eupraxia was, smirking.
“Is that what she told you happened?” Kallisto goes on before I can answer. She looks between Amersa and me. She scoffs. “Apollonia wasn’t expelled because she was roughed up by some soldiers. She was expelled because she slept with them.”
“What are you talking about?” It takes everything I have not to scream. “She didn’t go to sleep.”
Kallisto frowns, confused, and then something seems to dawn on her. Her laugh is cruel. “Gods on high,” she says. “You don’t even know what I’m talking about.” She cocks her head. “Do they really not teach girls what sex is where you come from?”
Amersa looks away, and my cheeks burn. I don’t know what Kallisto is talking about, and I don’t want to admit that, either.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” she says. “You always were just an ignorant little—”
I lunge.
It’s satisfying to see a brief look of fear in the moment before my body collides with Kallisto’s.
My shoulder explodes in pain as we slam against the stone floor, but in my rage, I ignore it.
My focus is singular and defined. The first time my fist comes down on Kallisto’s pretty face, a strange thrill pulses through me.
Kallisto cries out the second time I strike her, and I relish it.
I want to hurt her, because if I can hurt Kallisto, if I can make her scream the way Apollonia screamed as the priestesses dragged her away, then I won’t have to think about the fact that all this happened because of me.
I left Apollonia in the city alone. Somewhere behind me, Amersa is shouting.
“Meddy! Meddy you mustn’t—”
“Enough.”
I freeze with my fist still raised in the air. Kallisto groans as her head rolls to the side, and when I look up, Amersa is staring at something behind me, frightened.
“Medusa.” The high priestess’s voice is low, yet the sound of my name reverberates around the whole room. “Rise, and do not strike Acolyte Kallisto again.”
My body seems to act of its own accord as I obey.
Kallisto mutters something incoherent and spits blood, but no one pays her any notice.
The high priestess is studying me, and I can discern nothing from her expression.
The thrill I felt a moment before is entirely gone, replaced by a dull dread that begins to build in my stomach.
This is it; it’s over. I understand that with a sort of detached resignation.
Attacking a fellow acolyte, within the Temple of Athena no less, is unacceptable; I’m going to be dismissed from service, too.
The high priestess beckons. “Come with me,” she says. “Now.”
I expect her to admonish me as soon as we are away from the other acolytes, but Eupraxia walks in silence, her hands reverently folded.
I realize as we continue that she’s taking me to a part of the temple I’ve never been permitted in, down a corridor that’s dark and cold.
New fear stipples my skin. Am I going to be punished in some other way for what I’ve done, locked in some sort of cell?
Eupraxia reaches a small door, turns the handle, and enters. She does not look back to see if I’ve followed, but I stay on her heels. At once, I encounter a wave of warmth and a flickering light. Eupraxia steps aside, and I see who it is sitting on a stool beside the hearth.
Athena turns from the flames and meets my gaze.